Iron Heart
by sugarapplesweet
Summary: War does not determine who is right - only who is left." -Bertrand Russell
1. Part One

**Author's Note:** This is the first part of my entry for the Village Square Forums writing contest under the theme _War and Peace._ Although this story may not be the most serious interpretation of the theme, it's an idea I've been wanting to work with for a while, and I couldn't think of a more suitable time to use it. Please enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harvest Moon or its characters.

**Part One**

It was five o'clock, and the man was at the table, a fresh mug of black coffee resting in front of him. He was clearly in the latter years of his life, streaks of gray running through his coarse beard and what was left of his thinning red hair, but had he been more suited to it, he might've chuckled at the thought. As it was, though, he remained as stern as ever and his bushy brows were left pinched over two dark blue eyes in deep concentration.

The room was small with only a bed and a bookcase on one side and a kitchenette on the other. It was really all he needed- being as he lived alone- but while he sat there, he couldn't help thinking that there was something out of place. The trouble was he couldn't seem to name just what it was.

A loud knock at the door was all it took to break whatever spell had come over him, and muttering to himself, the man rose up from his chair and shuffled into the shop that made up the larger part of his actual home.

With just a pull of string, a single bare lightbulb flickered on overhead and filled the room with a warm glow. Despite this, however, there was a thin layer of ash that covered everything from one wall to the other, and it gave the place a look of being dried out and brittle which was completely at odds with the reliable and sturdy appearance of the man who had worked there for the greater part of his life.

Having finally come to the door, he wretched it open with one large hand, and there, standing out in the autumn frost, was a small boy glaring up at him on the front step.

The boy's blue eyes were as cold as ice, but he said nothing as he stood there waiting and all but daring the old man to turn him away. He wasn't a very memorable child, dressed in only a bagged t-shirt and jeans that were two sizes too big and a baseball hat that fell over his eyes and hid his bright red crop of hair. However, there was something about him which seemed painfully familiar to the man.

"Mind tellin' me what you think you're doin' here, son?" he asked the boy plainly, his voice gruff and ragged with the impatience of old age. "Not like kids these days to be up this early in the morning..."

"Just stepped off the ship," another voice, this one far gentler than the last, replied. When he glanced up from the boy, he found a young man in a blue cap and matching uniform standing beside the child. "Says he's your grandson... Came here to live with you by the sounds of it."

The elder's parched lips were left slightly parted as if the words were just on the very tip of his tongue and ready to be heard, but he said nothing while he continued to stand at the door in the crisp morning air. It was only after the officer went to speak again that he seemed to find his voice which had become all the more hoarse and bitter with the sudden and unwelcome news.

"I ain't got no grandson, Harris," he growled, glaring down his sharp nose at the boy. The child narrowed his eyes and bit his lip, but he kept quiet, no doubt more afraid than he was willing to let on. "You know that."

"Well, I've got a letter here from-"

"As far as I'm concerned, Harris, I never had a son, either. Especially not one the likes of him..." the old man muttered as he took a step back inside and went to close the door. "Now I've got work to do, so get that boy out of here. This ain't no place for a kid like that to be messin' around."

"Saibara..." the young man sighed, closing his eyes in an attempt to remind himself to be patient with the other. "There's no where else for me to take him, and like it or not, you're the only one who can take care of him."

"I ain't got time for 'im. Take 'im to the inn and let Doug put 'im up till the ferry leaves tomorrow."

"He hasn't got the money for a room or the trip back," the officer explained. "I can try to give his father a call, but I don't know if it'll do us any good."

"Not my problem," he grumbled, laying his hand heavily on the door. However, just before he managed to close it, the heavy wood jammed up against a leather shoe. He jerked his head up and glared at the younger man, but though his voice was low and threatening, he only repeated himself as if the problem was the officer hadn't heard him. "I said it ain't my problem."

"Well, Saibara, it's certainly more yours than it is mine," the other replied cooly, slipping his foot out of the way of the door once again. "Just keep him here until I get a call through to your son. That's all I'm asking."

Although he was more than willing to just slam the door and be done with it, he could only sigh and let the boy in, but not before giving the officer one last glare and a stern warning. "If he ain't out of here by tomorrow mornin', I'll send 'im back myself."

"Glad we could come to an agreement," the other agreed with a smile. Then, with a tip of his hat, the young man turned and returned to his regular beat which left the two unwilling companions to stare at one another and wonder just how they got in that predicament.

By the time he had rounded the corner, the old man was already back inside and ready for work, and yet the boy only dared to peer in the doorway. His eyes were wide as he watched his reluctant host tie a heavy leather apron around his thick waist, but he didn't have much time to gawk before being called inside. "What do you think you're doin' just standin' there, boy? Get in or get out, just close the damn door."

"My name is _Gray,"_ he muttered, slamming the door behind him.

"I don't give a shit what you're name is, but you damn well better not slam that door again," the man warned, his back still turned to him. "Now sit your ass down until Harris gets back here for you."

"What are you doin'?" he asked, choosing to ignore the other's apparent sour mood. Saibara only grunted as he shuffled towards the forge, but just before he got there, he had a sudden thought.

"Boy, get over here." Gray, who had been sitting on the stool over by the counter, only stared at him. "I said get!" Not a minute later, he was at the old man's side, and after giving the him a stern glare for taking so long, the old man handed him a dust pan and pointed to the gaping mouth of the forge. "If you're just gonna stand around here, you should at least try to make yourself useful." His suggestion was only met with another blank stare. "Are you deaf, boy? Get to it."

"Isn't this your job?"

"Don't get smart with me. Just do what you're told."

At first, the boy looked as if he was ready to argue, but after meeting the man's dark gaze, he seemed to think better of it and got to work. Of course, it was only after he felt he made it clear that this kind of work wasn't his idea of fun by muttering to himself, "This is bull shit..."

Not even a second after he said it, he was given a swift smack to the back of the head.

"Watch your mouth!" the other barked, glaring down at him. The boy didn't even seem to hear him since he was too busy nursing the knob on the back of his head, but he went on anyway. "You sure as hell don't need to be swearing at your age." Gray kept quiet as he returned to the forge, brush and dust pan in hand, but once the old man's back was turned to him, his lip curled back into something of a snarl. However, even this didn't go unnoticed by the older man. "I said to watch your mouth ."

"But I didn't-"

"Like hell you didn't. Now get to work, or I'll put you back on that damn ferry to wait till mornin'." Although he wanted to argue, the boy ultimately decided against it, and with a heavy sigh, he poked his head into the forge and began scraping away.

--

"God damn that son of mine... Figures he'd up and leave me with this kid." Gray stayed quiet being as he was too busy staring at the green lump that had been set in front of him by the older man to pay much attention to the other's grumblings. He'd heard what was said, of course, but after hearing more or less the exact same thing for much of his young life, it was certainly nothing new. Now that green thing on the other hand... that was something he just couldn't ignore.

"What is this stuff?" he asked, jabbing it with a sooty finger. "It looks like grass..."

"Thems turnip greens," the other corrected him. "Better eat 'em up." _Or I'll put you on that damn ferry and send you home myself,_ the boy finished bitterly in his mind. He stared at the pile for a while longer, still thinking to himself that it looked suspiciously more like a haystack than anything edible, but after an angry growl from his gut, he finally picked up his fork.

With one last once over, he shoved the first bite greedily into his mouth. However, when he tried to chew, he winced as what felt like bits of sand gritted between his teeth. Even if it hadn't been for that, though, the taste alone would've been more than enough to make him refuse another bite. It was somewhere between spinach and rhubarb- neither of which he liked much anyway. Of course, it wasn't really something that anyone would expect a kid to eat...

Aside from his grandfather, that is.

"Must not be hungry then, eh?" He looked up at Saibara as he sat down across from him with a steaming bowl of soup, but before he could even say a word, his stomach growled agin. "Well, it's either that or nothing, boy." He glanced over at the bowl and narrowed his eyes. Gray could only watch as the man took a spoonful and slurped it down, but not before a drop slid down his lips and onto his beard. "Gotta learn to eat your greens before you can have any of this, or else you're gonna be no use to no body."

The boy only glared at him, eyeing the man enviously, but Saibara paid no real attention to him. Instead, he simply finished his meal, and without a word, he turned to begin washing the dishes- save for the plate of greens and the pot on the stove.

Once he was finished there, he walked right past his grandson and over towards the bed, and only then did he turn to talk to him. "Well, whenever you're ready, there's a mattress here for you on the floor." With one glance over towards the stove, he added, "But you'd better not touch that damn pot until you finish those turnips." When the boy glared at him from under the brim of his hat, he just scowled right back. _"Got it?"_

"Got it..."

Satisfied, the old man began to undress himself for bed, but when he went to take off his briefs as well, Gray quickly turned back to the offending hay stack. After all, he'd seen grass clippings before and figured they were a whole lot better to look at.

Even if they were just as wrinkly looking.


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

"Aren't you finished yet, boy?"

"Quit calling me that!" he snapped, glaring over his shoulder at the older man. All it took was a look from his grandfather before he turned back to the sink and sulk, but he still kept up his grumbling as he began to clean the last two bowls. "You'd think you could remember my damn name..."

"I told you to watch that mouth of yours," the other growled as he took another swig of his coffee. "You're still too damn young to be talkin' like that."

"I'm fifteen."

"You don't even got hair on your chest yet, boy." The young man whipped around to face him, his face burning a bright red right up to his ears, but when he tried to tell him off, his voice cracked which caused him to turn an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Just... shut the hell up, old man."

For six years the two had lived like this, sharing the one-room house and forever stepping on one another's toes. The days they spent together seemed to be growing longer with every passing hour, and the air was always thick with animosity. All it took was a spark for one of their tempers to flare, and so it really was a wonder that they had yet to come to blows although neither one doubted that that time would certainly come at one point or another.

"Guess I ought to be gettin' to bed then." Saibara groaned as he lifted himself off his chair as the boy looked on. He would never admit to it, of course, but there was little doubt in the mind of his grandson that his age was starting to show. After all, most of his hair was now gone and the rest was more salt then pepper. He hadn't changed any of his more unpleasant habits in all that time, though.

"Can't you at least put on some pants or something?"

"When you get to my by age, boy, it doesn't really matter," he replied with a snort. "Ain't like I'm trying to impress no body." Gray muttered an ugly reply under his breath, putting the last dish on the drying rack for the night, but it was only after he was sure there was nothing left to see that he turned back around and headed for the door. "Where you off to at this time of night?"

"No where," he grumbled as he picked up his hat from the hook just beside the door. He didn't even bother to hear the other's reply before closing the door behind him, and only then did he allow himself to sigh.

He stood in the darkness of the forge for a moment, his sharp eyes straining to see past the long shadows. He didn't bother with the light, but instead he began to feel his way across the room and towards the front counter... which he found only after stubbing his toe and letting out a curse.

While he knew just how childish he must've looked doing it, he crouched down and began to crawl under the desk. It was hard doing being as he was still growing into his new, clumsy body, but he still managed to hide himself away without too much trouble. Once there, he began fumbling around until he found the flashlight and the book he'd stashed away there many years ago.

It was clearly an older book with its brittle cover holding on by nothing more than a thread, but he paid it no mind. He simply flipped it open and began reading the all too familiar words. It was the only thing he had ever gotten from his father, and even then, he had to steal it away. He didn't have to consider the consequences, though, because he had known from the beginning that he would probably never see the man again.

As he read, the words began to slowly blur together, but just when he closed his eyes...

"What the hell are you doing, boy? Get your ass out from under there! We got customers!"

Gray jumped, slamming his head, and before he could even say or a word, he found himself being dragged up by the old man. The whole world seemed to be spinning at first, but it all stopped rather suddenly when he noticed her standing there.

She was the neighbor girl, the one with the bright pink hair that lived across the street, and although he couldn't explain why, he felt his whole face warm just at the sight of her. She only giggled at his flustered expression, and not sure what to say, his face turned all the more red.

"Oh, you must be Gray." Even her voice was bright... just like her ruby eyes. "I'm Popuri." She gazed expectantly at him, waiting for him to say something, but just as he was about to-

"Don't mind him none," Saibara assured her with a gruff chuckle. "He ain't one for usin' his head if you know what I mean."

"Shut the hell up!"

He hadn't meant to say it, not out loud, but by the time he realized it, it was already too late. The girl could only gape at him in shock, but he knew all too well that the old man was glaring at him without bothering to look for himself. He didn't say a word as he pulled his hat over his eyes, and it was only after he did so that he was able to mutter an apology, one that sounded pathetic even to his own ears. Not just because his voice cracked when he said it, either.

To his surprise, though, she actually smiled. "That's okay," she giggled. "My big brother does the same thing when Karen teases him." Gray nodded, feeling more than a little relieved, but the other just scowled, his bushy brows meeting at a point just over his nose.

"Give me a minute, and I'll be right with you." Taking the young man firmly by the arm, he lead him into the back room, and as soon as the door was securely shut behind, he turned on his heel to face the boy.

Then, without any warning, he swung.

"Didn't I tell you to watch your god damn mouth! Didn't I?!"

At first, Gray could only stare, the sharp pain in his jaw not even registering in his mind. After all, even though he'd been struck before, it had been over six years since it'd happened last and never by this man. Once the shock had faded, his eyes narrowed until they were thin as knives and cut right through the other.

"Well, you sure as hell didn't have to make me out to be a dumb ass!" he snapped. This time, his voice didn't crack.

"Seems like that's the only way you know how to learn..." While he still sounded gruff, Saibara's voice had softened, his eyes filled with regret. However, the moment soon passed, and after clearing his throat, he began again with more force. "Maybe it's time for you to move out."

"What? You gonna try and send me back to my father then?" The old man shook his head.

"Can't very well do that without knowing where the hell he is, can I?" His grandson only looked away. "Nope. You're gonna stay at the inn from here on out... and you're gonna work for it. I won't pay a damn thing."

"Yeah? And how's that?"

"You're gonna be working for me as my apprentice. That's how." Gray bristled, his eyes caught somewhere between anger and confusion. "Ain't no sense you stayin' here, that's for sure... Not with that temper of yours." _Like yours is any better,_ he thought bitterly as he nursed his aching jaw. "This place is too small for the both of us anyway with you gettin' to be a man an' all."

At first, he wasn't sure if he heard right. Praise was just something couldn't have come from his grandfather... and yet the other's steady gaze was enough for him to know that he meant exactly what was said. He felt his face warm again, but he didn't say a word. After all, what _could_ be said... to something like that?

"Your training starts today." His words spend, Saibara headed back out the door, a soft smile on his thin cracked lips, but Gray made no move to follow him. He only stood there for a time as he smiled to himself as well. Of course, that was only until his grandfather called for him...

"Gray, get your lazy ass in here and get to work for this young lady!"


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

The inn never really had a name. Not that it needed one, of course, since it was the only one to be found in the small village. Even without one, it was still a pleasant sort of place with its exposed woodwork and an open liquor cabinet which proudly showcased the local brew. Each and every table had been carved into at one point another, acting as the town registry, and it was at one such table that the old man sat with a glass of wine resting in front of him.

He could still remember the first day he came to this place... all those years ago. Guilt had brought him here back then. Guilt and regret... Guilt for the past and regret for the future. What he did and what he should've done... those were the thoughts that haunted him now, and as far as he could tell, that was just fine. After all, a man couldn't be expected not to make a few mistakes in his lifetime.

With a bitter chuckle, he lifted the glass to his cracked lips. It tasted sweet, and while he never had much of a taste for sweet things, he found he liked it well enough. After all, at his age, he couldn't taste much.

There was once a time when he didn't think about such things, though, especially not growing old. The thought had never crossed his mind... yet though he admitted that, on some level at least, he was afraid of the certainty of it all, he knew there had to be a different reason. He didn't doubt it was something simple, but as to what it was or even could be, he couldn't seem to put his finger on it.

"Grandpa?" He glanced down, his thick brows knitted together over the bridge of his nose, but when he caught sight of the young boy, he couldn't help but smile. Blue eyes and red hair... Who would've guessed?

"Hey now... if it isn't Kael," he chuckled as he ruffled the child's hair. "Where's your old man?"

"You're the only one who's old."

"I ain't old yet, boy," the other huffed, leaning back in his chair and gazing up at the young man who had spoken. "I've still got to keep an eye on you. After all, wouldn't want you to screw up this nice thing you've got goin' for you." Gray only glanced away as his face warmed, but there was still a ghost of a smile lingering there all the same. "So how's your wife doin'? Ain't seen much of her these days..."

"She's alright," he assured him. "The doctor just told her she needs to lay off work until the baby's born."

"And how'd she take to that?"

"Take a guess." The two shared a chuckle, neither one having to say a word about it. "She really should, though... She's been working too hard." He took a seat then, and not a moment after, his son was eagerly waiting at his feet. Without too much thought, he lifted him up into his lap, and the boy smiled- if only slightly since, like his father, he didn't seem to be one for smiling very often. Even so, it suited him all the same.

"Yeah, she's a tough one," his grandfather laughed. "Guess that's the kind of woman men like us need, though." His grandson went to nod, but then he seemed to think better of it.

"What do you mean_ we?"_ he challenged, clearly offended by the old man's remark.

"You heard me," Saibara replied before taking another sip from his glass. "We're just a pair of bitter old men." He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty bar, but when he caught sight of the small boy still sitting in his grandson's lap, he was quiet again. "Still, I guess you turned out pretty damn good. Not the best... but good enough."

"A lot better than some people." An understanding silence fell between them then, and Kael could only look from one man to the other with a mild look of curiosity as they dwelled in their own thoughts, not speaking a word to one another. After the boy had decided he'd had enough of it, he pulled on his father's work coat and gazed up at the man with wide, pleading eyes.

"Dad, can we go home now?"

Gray looked down at the boy, his gaze becoming soft and warm, and offered him a smile. "Alight," he agreed. "Your mom probably has dinner ready for us anyway." As he stood, he glanced in the old man's direction, and though he hesitated for a moment, he soon found his voice again. "Hey, Gramps... you feel like going with us to the house tonight?"

"Got any turnips there for me?" Saibara chuckled, knowing full well how the other would react. However, while the young man made a face, his son only grinned. "Seems like this one 'ere doesn't mind 'em as much as you did."

"That's cause his mother knows how to wash the damn things."

"A little dirt never hurt nobody," the old man replied. "It builds character." Then, having had another thought, he said, "Didn't I tell you to quit swearing?" Gray only smiled, pulling the brim of his hat over his eyes, and made his way towards the door.

"Yeah... and I still say you just need to shut the hell up."

--

**Author's Note:** I'm still convinced that without Saibara, Gray wouldn't become the man he is today, in the fandom or otherwise, and so that was my reason for writing this. Even though I don't think this was my best work by any stretch of the imagination, I still hope I did the two and their relationship at least some justice.


End file.
